


'46 Bonnie and Clyde

by steggyisimmortal



Series: Shield and Gun [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post War, Stork Club, mention of PTSD, period racism, this became deeper than I was planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steggyisimmortal/pseuds/steggyisimmortal
Summary: Steve and Peggy finally get their date at the Stork Club.





	'46 Bonnie and Clyde

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to indiefic for posting a French 75 video on Tumblr one day. Thanks to rachlovesligers and infinitypeggys for reading it when I asked them to tell me it was too wordy and it sucked, lol (just kidding. They didn't say it sucked). Thanks to beautifulwhensarcastic for just dealing with me talking about it and just dealing with me :)
> 
> Plot inspired by the line:  
>  _"She do anything necessary for him and I do anything necessary for her. So don’t let the necessary occur."_

* * *

Steve took one last look in the mirror and straightened his tie.  He was sorry he didn’t have a hat to pair with it but Peggy assured him that was all right.  None of the other guys would be wearing one either. 

 

He checked his watch.  A quarter till eight.  He still had plenty of time.  He could hear the boys in the living room.  From the sound of it, Dugan was telling another tall tale.  Steve shook his head at another round of raucous laughter.

 

They had all flown in for him.  Tomorrow he was due to receive the Medal of Honor.  It had been awarded to him posthumously but since he had no living next of kin the medal had no one to go to.  Once news had spread that he was alive and very much able to receive the medal in person, President Truman hadn’t hesitated to send him a letter informing him of the honor.

 

Thankfully Steve had managed to get the full blown ceremonial presentation knocked down to a small gathering located in Senator Brandt’s office.

 

Steve was _not_ looking forward to being reunited with him.

 

In the meantime he had a date.

 

Grabbing his keys and his wallet, he walked out to join his friends.

 

“Cap!” Dugan shouted.  “You’re on time! Glad to see Carter’s finally havin’ a good influence on ya.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I told her I wouldn’t make an entrance tonight.  Told her that was her job.”

 

“Ah, she’s always a showstopper,” Dugan reminded. 

 

Morita slapped Steve’s arm.  “Looks like she took your advice to heart, though.”

 

Steve looked up from the slight scuff on his shoe to notice all the fellas staring behind him.  He whirled around to see Peggy in a blue cap sleeve dress, the neckline plunging just enough to be modest but entice in the same glance.  Her hair was pulled back by her ears, pulled back in what he was sure was a simple twist.  Her lips were their familiar shade of red.

 

Showstopper indeed.

 

“Do I pass inspection?” Peggy asked. The question was open but her eyes were on Steve.

 

He walked up to her.  “That’s supposed to be my line,” he said.  He slid his hands in his pockets and looked her up and down.  “I think you’ll do.”

 

Her manicured eyebrow went up.  She returned the favor and took in his uniform.  Unconsciously he stood straighter.

 

“Your shoe is scuffed.”

 

“You took the kit.”

 

“That’s no excuse.”

 

“Eh, it’s the best I got,” he shrugged.  Taking a hand out of his pocket he grabbed hers and kissed the back of it.  “I’ll do better tomorrow.”

 

Peggy hummed.  “I should hope so.  Can’t have Senator Brandt thinking his “dancing monkey” is less than perfect.”

 

The sarcasm he heard in her voice made him chuckle.  He leaned down to kiss her.

 

“Display of affection, fellas,” Dugan’s voice boomed.  “Avert your eyes.”

 

Peggy rolled her eyes and tugged on his lapel to complete his thought. 

 

* * *

 

 Steve offered his arm to Peggy.  Steve saw Gabe offer his arm to Angie to escort her inside the club.  Peggy had been insistent that Angie join them for the evening.  She’d asked Gabe to accompany the actress, telling Steve she thought the two would hit it off. 

 

He had to say so far she was right.  Gabe looked downright smitten and the evening had only just begun. 

 

Steve struggled through an awkward handshake from the doorman before ushering Peggy inside.  He could hear the fellas close behind them.

 

The Stork Club was alive with activity.  The band was playing in full swing somewhere in the club.  He couldn’t see them but he could hear the horns.  Before them, there were people mingling.  Here was some of New York’s finest.  Everyone from celebrities to journalists made the club their home. 

 

“Captain Rogers!”

 

They all turned to see Sherman Billingsley walking towards them, his arms open wide in greeting. 

 

He was a tall man, easily identifiable thanks to the photograph of him near the entrance.  His reddish brown hair stood out among the sea of blonde and dark brown.  His light blue pocket square matched his shirt and complimented the lead color suit he was wearing. 

 

“I’m so pleased to welcome you to my club,” the man said, clasping his hands together.  “I’m Sherman Billingsley.”

 

“I’d introduce myself but you already seem to know me,” Steve quipped.  Instead he introduced the man to everyone else.

 

“May I offer you and your -” Steve saw him hesitate, his gaze flickering to Gabe, “- friends the best table in the house?”

 

“My friends and I would be honored to accept.  You know, I couldn’t have done what I did without them.”  He placed his free hand on Gabe’s shoulder.  “Especially this man.  His skills were invaluable to me and the country.”

 

Gabe smiled smugly at the man.  Steve struggled to maintain a modest grin, enjoying far too much the owner’s discomfort. 

 

“Yes, of course,” he finally said, turning on his heel.  “Right this way.”

 

* * *

 

 The tables were lined with freshly starched and pressed white linens.  Fresh flowers were littered everywhere.  There were walls lined with mirrors, a sensation that left Steve feeling like he was back at Howard’s.  Everywhere he could see people – on the dance floor, by the stairs, at the tables, waiting at the bar. 

 

Steve let Peggy into the booth first.  He slid in after her, helping her remove her small wrap. 

 

“This is really something,” he said, slack-jawed. 

 

“It certainly is.”

 

He looked over at her but she was still looking around.  Angie was sliding in the round booth on the opposite of Peggy.  He could safely say her amazement rivaled his.  She hadn’t stopped gasping at everything since they walked in the door.

 

He slipped his hand in hers to catch her attention.  She turned to him with expectant eyes.  He smiled at her somewhat sadly.

 

“Not exactly the circumstances I was picturing us having,” he murmured lowly.  Her face softened.

 

“That doesn’t matter.”   She squeezed his hand.  “We’re here.  That’s all I care about.”

 

They smiled at one another.  He loved that about her.  She wouldn’t let him feel sorry about missed opportunities and dwell on the past. 

 

Everything else in the room faded out except for her.  The sound of her soft breathing.  Her pulse beating strong in her wrist.  Not for the first time, she brought him back to the present.  This was real.  He was really here with her.

 

“None of that, soldier.  Tonight is about celebrating and you owe me a proper dance with a proper band.”

 

“You sound pretty sure I won’t step on your feet again.”

 

“I think you can’t be any worse than any other man here.”

 

* * *

 

 “English, I can’t believe this is your life,” Angie gushed. 

 

Not for the first time, Steve was glad Peggy had insisted on bringing Angie.  He liked her.  She was a vibrant, if not slightly moody, personality that broke up the monotony of post war mentalities Steve often saw.  She was virtually untouched by the terrors of war and he was grateful.  Of her five brothers, only one of them had served.  He’d been in an office stateside, however, so all he had were second hand tales and accounts that weren’t confidential to share. 

 

“I’m sure it seems more glamorous than it is,” Peggy insisted. 

 

“I never woulda dreamed of bein’ in a place like this,” Angie continued, oblivious to Peggy.  “My ma is gonna die when I tell her tomorrow.”

 

Peggy chuckled.  Steve tossed back the rest of his drink before grabbing Peggy’s empty class as well.  Her hand grazed his arm as he stepped out to the bar to get them a refill. 

 

He kept his head ducked down as he weaved through the bodies.  The dance floor was teeming with people that spilled over into the narrow walkways.  Dugan had found several ladies to dance with him, as had Falsworth.  Morita was the quieter sort.  He’d been talking to a lady at the bar for a good half an hour.  Steve could see she was still laughing and touching Jim’s arm every few seconds.  Dernier had a trio of ladies surrounding him but Steve guessed they had no clue what he was saying as he only spoke in French.  He knew some English but he preferred to speak in his native language.  He once told Steve it made him more mysterious to foreigners and ladies.

 

When he finally made it to the bar thanks to two men leaving with two drinks each, he ordered a drink for himself and Peggy.  He turned and glanced around the place.  The club had more floors but they hadn’t made it past the first.  Steve didn’t see the point.  He’d overheard someone mention upstairs was where Billingsley had a card room but Steve wasn’t interested in that.  All he needed was the band, the bar, and his friends to make the evening memorable. 

 

He still didn’t quite feel like himself.  Not since he’d been found.  His feelings of displacement were lessening each day but he still jumped sometimes at the slightest sound.  Peggy was patient with him.  She’d had more time to adjust to a civilian life.  As close as her job let her be a civilian. 

 

He didn’t know whether to talk to her about everything or not.  He didn’t want to burden her.  Her job was frustrating and busy enough as it was.  He didn’t want to add to that.  It helped that the neighbor down the hall had taken him under her wing during his free hours.  Steve was learning more about housework and textiles than he’d ever wanted to know.  Next week Mrs. Apfel was going to start teaching him some of her family’s old recipes.  It was a welcome distraction.  Besides, one of them had to learn how to cook or else they’d go broke eating out all the time.

 

The bartender handed him his drinks with a smile and a nod.  Steve returned the gesture, handing the man a tip before grabbing his glasses.

 

He frowned when he turned around.

 

There were two men he didn’t recognize standing at his table. 

 

He squinted.  This was something he was used to, he told himself.  He was lying, of course, but it made him feel better.

 

Men were attracted to Peggy.  This he knew.  When it was clear his relationship with Peggy was progressing beyond a simple friendship, Steve knew he had to get over any potential jealously.  Realizing that three years ago was easier than implementing that now.  It was date night, damn it.

 

Moving closer, though, he noticed the shorter, brown hair man looked familiar.  Just then he turned and Steve could see his crutch.  Daniel Sousa.  Steve didn’t know how to feel about the man.  His encounters with him had been limited and making friends wasn’t exactly on Steve’s mind when they first met.  He knew Peggy considered the man a friend but the face she was making now didn’t seem like she was greeting friends. 

 

“…surprised to see you here, Carter,” the blonde man was saying.  “Didn’t figure you for the club going type.”

 

“It’s a special occasion with friends.”

 

“What makes it so special?  Celebrating doing the filing?”

 

Steve struggled hard not to crush the glasses in his hands.

 

“Yes, Jack,” Peggy answered dryly.  “Doing your filing is a wonderful improvement over fetching your lunch order.”

 

“I guess you should have taken her up on her offer to teach you the alphabet,” Sousa interjected.  The man named Jack shot him a stern look.

 

Steve felt rather than saw Dugan and the others step up behind him.  They had an uncanny way of knowing when they might be needed. 

 

“You sure have an odd bunch of friends, Carter,” Jack said.  “From the butler to this motley crew – I didn’t know you knew so many types.”

 

“Unlike you, I enjoy the mix of people life has to offer rather than simply those I can bend to do my bidding.”

 

Steve was close enough to see Jack’s jaw clench.  It was as good a time as any to make his introductions.  He inserted himself to the right of the man.  It took all his energy not to step on his foot.

 

Sousa knew he was there.  He tapped on his companion’s arm but the taller man paid him no heed. 

 

“Oh, Carter, tell me you’re not drinking this frilly drink,” he laughed, bending slightly with the effort.  Steve glanced down at the two drinks he still held.  “I honestly didn’t know what to expect but I at least thought you’d be a Tom Collins kinda gal.”

 

With all the restraint Steve could muster he set the old fashioned he was carrying in front of Peggy.  The laughter from the lean man dried up.  Staring Jack straight in his eyes – looking down on him, Steve was pleased to notice – he took a sip of his French 75. 

 

“It’s nostalgic,” Steve needlessly explained.  “Reminds me of when I spent a few days just outside of Paris during the war.”

 

He held the champagne and gin drink away from him as if really examining the mix of liquids.  “I don’t know that I’d call it frilly.  Packs a mean punch.  Did you know they named it after a cannon?”

 

When he glanced back at the man his eyes had gone wide and his jaw slack.   Sousa looked as he had the last time Steve saw him but he kept his eyes downturned.  Steve was sure with the others behind him they made an intimidating sight.

 

“Holy shit, you, you’re…”

 

“Gentlemen,” Peggy’s honeyed voice flowed to his ears, “I don’t believe you’ve met my husband, Captain Steve Rogers.  Steve, this is Jack Thompson and Daniel Sousa.”

 

That seemed to snap Thompson out of his haze.  Sousa looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

 

“I’d shake your hands, fellas, but I might get this frilly drink all over you.  Someone bumped my arm on the way over here.”

 

Peggy had told him a bit about Thompson.  Just the glossed over version.  He didn’t know why he hadn’t put two and two together before.  It was a good thing.  Steve didn’t want to get kicked out before he’d managed to dance with Peggy.

 

“You’re really…” Thompson babbled on.   Sousa slapped him on the arm to get him to snap out of it. 

 

“Thompson and I were gonna head upstairs to play some cards,” Sousa said.  The two men shared a look of understanding.  It seemed to snap Thompson out of his funk.

 

“Yeah, whaddya say, Steve?”

 

“It’s Captain Rogers,” Dugan corrected, stepping closer.  Thompson took a small step back, bumping into Sousa. 

 

Thompson laughed uncomfortably, looking around at the bunch.  “Are you serious?”

 

The men laughed.  Dugan sobered up quick.

 

“Yeah. I’m serious.”  He brushed past the man.  “Show some respect.”

 

Steve set his drink down on the table and offered his hand to Peggy.

 

“I’m afraid I have to decline, fellas.  I owe my wife a dance.”

 

* * *

 

 Steve’s senses had undergone many changes with the serum.  Each had its own little perk.  Seeing such vivid colors let him appreciate seasons and sudden changes in scenery.  Hearing every note of the earth enabled him to rival the hearing of a dog.  Touch hadn’t changed too much but when the serum first entered his system every sensation left him with tingles.  Foods tasted better and he savored every bite more but he still wasn’t sure if that was because of the serum or the change in his options. 

 

His favorite was smell.

 

Living in such close quarters with men for the majority of his life after the serum, one would think smell would be his least favorite.  Sometimes it was.  Okay, he was lying.  Most of the time it was.  Smelling dirty men and manure and gunpowder constantly wasn’t pleasant.  He got used to it, though.  It got to the point he was able to tell a stranger’s stink over their own, letting him weed out the enemies.

 

No, smell wasn’t his favorite for the food or the flowers or the funk of men.  Smell had a special place in his heart thanks to Peggy.

 

Her perfume had been the first thing to fill his nostrils when he emerged from the pod.  It was heady and warm.  Not too strong or overpowering.  Somehow he had just known that it belonged to her before she even pushed her way up to him.  It haunted him for days after they parted. 

 

Now it lingered over all of his clothes and the bedsheets.  He was surprised no one had asked him yet if he wore women’s perfume.  He had a cologne, one he’d been wearing for years only now he was able to appreciate the notes in it, but some days he liked it when he had Peggy’s scent wrapped around him for hours.

 

Just now it was all he could smell.  A sea of perfumes and colognes and all he could smell was her familiar scent of bergamot and sandalwood.

 

He pulled her closer in his arms.  Not for the first time he was grateful the band had chosen to play a string of slow songs.  If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Peggy had asked them to do it on his behalf.

 

“Your plan with Howard working out?”

 

“Yes, surprisingly,” her voice piqued.  “I didn’t think the man would stick with such a plan for so long before something else caught his fancy but I daresay we’re entering the final stages.”

 

“And Phillips finally said yes?”

 

She cringed.

 

“Well, not yet but I think dinner with him and his wife will persuade him.  His wife is on my side and she and I are very persuasive.”

 

Steve scoffed.  “Don’t I know it.”  She tweaked his arm.  He spun her around in a tight circle, a small squeal squeaking past her lips.  “So how’d Phillips even end up with her anyway?  She’s so nice and happy and he’s so -- Well, him.”

 

Peggy chuckled.  Her fingers ran through the soft hairs at the base of his neck.  “It is an odd pairing but they work quite well together.  She’s just what he needs.  They’ve been together for more than twenty years so they must be doing something right.”

 

He gazed at her.  “Do you think we’ll make it twenty years?”

 

Her brow cocked up in question.

 

“Are you going somewhere?

 

He laughed despite himself. 

 

“No,” he assured, “but I’ve never been afforded the luxury of planning my future for the long term.  The world always seems to have a different plan.”

 

Her lips pursed in thought.  He always wanted to kiss her when she did that.  If only to take away from the fact that he always felt like she was looking straight through him and into his soul when she got that look. 

 

“I think if you were truly meant to be somewhere else you would be.  I’m certainly not finished with you yet.  Not for a very, very long time.”

 

Steve enjoyed the way she emphasized the word ‘very.’ 

 

“Good, because I got no plans to be anywhere else other than right here.”

 

“Not right here I should hope.  I doubt very much some of these patrons would like what I want to do to you later.”

 

He felt his face flush at her words.  Her laughter caused the patrons next to them to give them a look.

 

“Are you ever not going to blush?”

 

“I really hope so but my money’s on no.”

 

* * *

 

 “I don’t get it,” Morita was saying as he watched yet another female walk away from Steve.  “That is the third woman you’ve turned down in less than ten minutes.  What’s a guy gotta do to get some attention?”

 

“Um, look awkward and uncomfortable?”

 

Steve watched Morita lean awkwardly against the bar, alternating putting his hands on his hips and letting them hang.  He tried a few smiles that looked more like grimaces and waved at a girl.  She hastily walked past him, her friend giggling in her ear.

 

“Not like that.  Even I know not to do that.”

 

“You got Carter!  You’re one to talk!”

 

“You think I actually know how that happened?!”

 

Morita waved the whole thing off.  He draped his body over the bar while they waited for their drinks.  “So you nervous about tomorrow?”

 

Steve shook his head.  He watched Gabe teach Peggy the Lindy.  She was beautiful when she danced.  Dugan had stolen Angie away to prove that some Irishmen could dance – Steve was still a work in progress – but Falsworth had stepped in when the faster Lindy started.  The spindly, reserved man was a surprisingly good dancer.

 

“I’m just glad he agreed to a private meeting in his office,” Steve said.  “I thought Phillips was gonna have a heart attack before they finally made Brandt see reason.”

 

Steve didn’t even want the medal.  When Peggy and the guys had told him about all the posthumous medals he’d received, he thought they were lying.  What did one man need with so many?  What did he need them for at all?  He was just doing what anyone would have done.  What did he need with medals when so many people were dead at the hands of a madman, when all he wanted to do was make the world a little better than what he knew?

 

What he thought had to be medals for the entire unit were actually just for him.  Eleven in all.  Phillips had presented him with them.  He barely explained what they were; just shoved them toward Steve and said he didn’t have to worry about them anymore. 

 

“Eh, you know these flashy politic types,” Morita interrupted his thoughts.  “They like to wave people around like they’re the ones responsible for their accomplishments.”

 

Steve nodded in agreement.  He didn’t much care for politics.  Everyone kissed someone else’s ass and they all spoke in circles.  Steve got headaches trying to keep up. 

 

“Thanks for inviting us,” Morita continued.  Steve made a face.

 

“’Inviting you?’” he repeated.

 

“Okay, for listening to us invite ourselves,” he corrected.  “You know we weren’t gonna miss this.”

 

Steve did know.  There was a time the Commandos barely took a step without the rest following.  Steve knew he could always count on his family.

 

“Plus, I’ve kinda been missing the crew, y’know?  Life just seems so… plain now.  My dad said I could help him run the business now that it’s up and running, but it’s a grocery store.  Do I really want to spend the rest of my life stocking shelves?”

 

“I’m sure you could do more than that after it’s up and running,” Steve assuaged.  Morita proceeded to tear a napkin to shreds. 

 

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t know what.  I don’t know what I want to do.  I was thinking about looking into becoming a doctor.” He shrugged like he was out of options.  “Got the skills thanks to the army.  I don’t know if they’ll take me, though.”

 

Steve could see the self-doubt written on his face. 

 

Steve mentally slapped himself.  He’d been such an idiot.  There he was worrying he didn’t fit in anymore and he hadn’t even noticed his friends felt the same way.  He just assumed everyone had found their place in society again. 

 

“Hey, of course you can do it,” he encouraged softly.  He squeezed his friend’s shoulder.  “If that’s what you want, go for it.  They worst thing they can do is say no but they won’t because you have the skills.  You’d be a great doctor.”

 

“Yeah,” he shrugged again, “I guess.”

 

“I don’t guess.  I know.  If you’re good enough to patch me up, you’re good enough to work on anybody.  Hell, if you’re good enough to patch up Peggy – ”

 

“Oh god, don’t remind me!  Working on a bear woulda been easier.”

 

“See?  You’re the perfect guy for the job.  You just have to get out there.”

 

“The same goes for you, ya know.”

 

Steve’s brow knit in confusion.  Morita gave Steve a knowing look.  They both stayed quiet when their drinks were placed in front of them.  He took a sip casually like he hadn’t just discovered Steve’s biggest secret. 

 

“You think we haven’t noticed?  We’ve been here one day and we know you’re not your usual self.”

 

Steve struggled to find something to say but Morita kept talking.

 

“I know, I know.  You had some crazy circumstances and you haven’t really been home that long but Steve.”

 

He paused.  Steve was nervous he was going to get a punch to the arm.  He was a little guy but his punch hurt.  He didn’t look like he was trying to gather his words but rather make Steve nervous and uncomfortable with anticipation of his scolding.  It was working.

 

“You look like a lost puppy every time Carter leaves your side and not the normal lost puppy look you had during the war when you thought no one saw you lookin’ at her.”  He shook his head at Steve’s weak protests.  “You know it’s true; don’t deny it.  You just… You lost your spark.”

 

“I had a spark?”  Steve rolled his eyes at himself for speaking before thinking.

 

“Yeah, man!”

 

Steve frowned. 

 

He didn’t think it was obvious.  He thought he was hiding it well.  He was quieter than normal; Peggy had made a passing comment on it a few weeks ago but considering she followed her statement with a few mind-numbing kisses, he hadn’t thought she was commenting on his demeanor as a whole. 

 

He was tired of feeling like he was floating in water.  The feeling always started the same – safe and content, he had all the time in the world.  Then everything came rushing at him only for him to discover he’d been headed towards a waterfall the entire time. 

 

“I just don’t know where I fit in.  That sounds ridiculous, I know, but I don’t know who to be.  Am I Captain America?  Am I Steve Rogers?  Do I go back to answering the army’s every call or do I adjust to civilian life?  The only reason the army hasn’t come calling yet is because of Phillips.  To be honest, I don’t even know if I want to answer their call when they finally come knocking.”

 

Steve looked at his glass.  Condensation was rolling down the side.  He watched it pool under the glass before grabbing a napkin to wipe it up.  It made him think of the numerous napkins he had at home, each with its own unique drawing on it.  He’d taken to doodling while waiting for Peggy at the Automat.  He always doodled but he found himself doing it more lately.  It relaxed him.  Made him forget about his life crisis.  It was easy to revert to his childhood hobby when his available model was so attractive.  He was either going to have to find some more notebooks or invest in a lifetime supply of napkins. 

 

A hand clapped on his shoulder.  Steve looked up to see Morita looking at him with steely determination.

 

“You’re Steve fucking Rogers.”  Despite himself, Steve chuckled airily.  “You don’t owe anyone a damn thing, no matter what anyone says.  You’ve paid your dues.  Made the ultimate sacrifice.  You’ll find your place in time but you don’t have to rush it.  Just spend some time enjoying being Peggy Carter’s husband.”

 

That had the desired effect Morita was going for.  The men fell into a fit of laughter.  A few men around them looked at them eagerly, ready to be let in to the joke. 

 

“God knows the two of you have waited long enough,” he finished.  “Just… don’t hesitate to talk to us, you know?  We all know what you’re goin’ through.”

 

Steve nodded earnestly.

 

“Hey, that ass wipe is talking to Carter again,” Dugan interrupted.  Steve glanced over to where Dugan pointed.  Thompson was back at the table gesturing around and struggling to stay upright.  Peggy sat passively in the booth.  Gabe looked like he was ready to clock Thompson.  “He’s pretty wasted.”

 

The trio made their way over towards the table.  He sided up behind the staggering man.  He slipped a hand into his pocket and sipped at his drink.  Sousa had caught up to his coworker finally and tried to get him to shut up.  Thompson kept batting him off.  Before Sousa could say Steve’s name, he waved the man off.

 

He wanted to be introduced to the real Jack Thompson.

 

“… always be a secretary,” Thompson slurred.  “Men like to stare at pretty things while they’re out there doing the real work.  That’s all you’re good for.  Was it good, Carter?”

 

“Was what good, Jack?” Peggy wondered lazily.  Steve could hear the restraint in her voice.

 

“Serving _under_ a captain for all that time?” he sneered.  “I bet that’s the only reason ya got your job.  Screwin’ Captain America in secret for all those years.  I guess even Captain America isn’t imp..im…immune to a pretty face.  I guess even in the right light even I would give you a go.”

 

To Steve’s surprise, Peggy laughed. 

 

“Actually, I much prefer being on top.  I’m not much for relinquishing control.”

 

“That’s all you’re gonna say?  No insult?  No long drawn out speech?  Have I finally said something to make you speechless?”

 

She sighed.

 

“On the contrary, I have plenty to say but I know you, Jack.  Nothing I can say will change your opinion of me.”

 

She paused and took a sip of her drink.  Peggy’s eyes finally flicked to Steve before landing on Thompson again.

 

“On the other hand, I’m sure my husband has plenty to say to you.  I’m afraid he’s not used to people speaking to me in such a manner.”

 

“Honey, last I saw him he was at the bar.  You know he’s been there a lot tonight.  Maybe he’s trying to drown his problems.  Troubles at home, Carter?  Married life ain’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

 

He laughed at his own words and chose that moment to turn and find Steve at the bar.  The man’s laughter died on his lips, his face falling, when he saw Steve.  They stared at one another for a long passing moment.  Thompson stood with his mouth gaping open.  Sousa’s brow was knit, no doubt wondering why Steve nor Peggy weren’t laying into his coworker. 

 

Steve didn’t like to disappoint people.

 

“You know, I don’t think I have anything to say.  Peg knows how to fend for herself.”  He took a sip of his drink before handing it to Morita.  “I think I’ll take a page out of my wife’s book for a change.”

 

Thompson looked perplexed. 

 

Steve could have heard a pin drop as he reeled back and punched Thompson square in the face.

 

* * *

 

 “Sorry I got us kicked out.”

 

Steve kicked at a rock in front of him, remembering at the last second that he was wearing his good shoes.  He winced at Peggy’s hip bump of admonishment.

 

“Nonsense, darling.  I think that was a perfect ending to our night.”  Peggy laughed lowly.  “Very us.”

 

“Me, too.  We should do that more often.  Any other coworkers I can hit?” he asked eagerly.  She rolled her eyes at him. 

 

“We might want to broaden our demographic.  I still have to work with them, after all.”

 

“Yeah, but not for much longer.  It can be like a going away present.”

 

She stopped abruptly.  His toes lined up in front of hers, the soft ‘thunk’ bringing him back to the present.  Her eyes were hooded, taking him back to a pub in London what seemed like ten years ago.  She smoothed the lapels of his jacket, flattening invisible creases. 

 

“I think my honor has been thoroughly defended.”

 

Glancing around them, Steve put his arms around her waist.  He pressed his forehead to hers.  Music from a nightclub down the street was filtering to their ears.  Steve was aware he had started swaying her to the sounds of the slow saxophone. 

 

“Thank you for letting me defend your honor,” he teased. 

 

“It was the least I could do after dragging you to the club.”

 

He knew she was referring to his aversion to public spaces rather than the Stork Club.  He avoided going out as much as possible.  Mostly to loud or crowded places.  He wasn’t a hermit.  He went to the store or bakery or pharmacy for small errands while Peggy was at work.  It helped him a bit that the army still had him on a short leash but he was using that as a crutch. 

 

Peggy had been there every step of the way.  Not pushing but not forcing either.  He didn’t know what he would have done without her these past few months. 

 

He kissed the tip of her nose.  “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

 

He could see her eyes shining in the street lamps.  Her lips pursed tightly the way she did when she was overcome by emotion.  She kissed his lips lightly.

 

“I’ll never give up on you, Steve.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Details about the Stork Club
> 
> • Location: 3 East 53rd Street, east of 5th Avenue from 1934-1965  
> • No drunkenness, rowdiness, or fighting. Patrons would be thrown out.  
> • Military always welcome at the club  
> • The owner didn't allow African Americans in the club.


End file.
